“A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening.”

Never is a man wholly a saint or a sinner.

I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.

Loneliness is the way by which destiny endeavors to lead man to himself.

Love your suffering. Do not resist it, do not flee from it. It is only your aversion to it that hurts, nothing else.

We have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home. And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is our homesickness.

Life is waiting everywhere, the future is flowering everywhere, but we only see a small part of it and step on much of it with our feet

If I know what love is, it is because of you.

Seriousness is an accident of time. It consists of putting too high a value on time. In eternity there is no time. Eternity is a moment, just long enough for a joke.

All life was a breath exhaled by God. All dying was a breath inhaled by God.

To die is to go into the Collective Unconscious, to lose oneself in order to be transformed into form, pure form.

I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.

A man who is ill-adjusted to the world is always on the verge of finding himself. One who is adjusted to the world never finds himself, but gets to be a cabinet minister.

God does not send us despair in order to kill us; he sends it in order to awaken us to new life.

Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell.

What you call passion is not spiritual force, but friction between the soul and the outside world.

You can ride, you can travel with a friend of your own; The final step you must take alone. No wisdom is better than this when known: That every hard thing is done alone.

I’m a patriot of the heart.

Your spirit is not broken your heart is and you will heal.

I keep stacks of Autobiography of a Yogi around the house, and I give it out constantly to people. When people need ‘regrooving,’ I say read this, because it cuts to the heart of every religion.

We are broken. But never beyond repair.

Study the world’s skin before you set out to look for its heart.

All along this path I tread, my heart betrays my weary head, with nothing but my love to save, from the cradle to the grave.

Fate always wins, for our own heart within us Imperiously furthers its designs.

I know joy as a song of the heart. And each day I seek it.